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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23378155">sleep mode</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bombcollar/pseuds/bombcollar'>bombcollar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NieR: Automata (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Religion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:15:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>522</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23378155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bombcollar/pseuds/bombcollar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>2B and 9S rest after a couple long missions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sleep mode</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door to their guest room at the resistance camp stands open slightly, letting in the scent of petrichor and the gentle patter of rain. YoRHa units could fight in the rain, of course, and in the snow, in extreme heat, virtually no weather was a deterrent.  But it had been a long day, and 2B had agreed with his suggestion to rest so eagerly he was sure she’d been waiting for it, too proud to say it herself.</p><p>Rest wasn’t required, but sleep mode was useful for running diagnostics, checking for easily-missed damage and repairing code, and for simply giving one’s servos a rest so they didn’t wear out and require extra maintenance. Even the Pods slept, tucking their limbs underneath themselves in a manner reminiscent of cats.</p><p>9S lies on the too-firm mattress, on his side, facing the wall, eyes shut. His soaked jacket and boots had been left by the door. He listens to the rain, to 2B trying to get comfortable on her own bed on the other side of the room, very still. She pauses, sits up, and he guesses she must be looking over at him through the shelving unit that divided the room in half. She stays like that for a minute or so before shifting around again. He’s about to sit up and ask her if something’s wrong, when he hears her murmuring to herself. She must think he’s asleep, otherwise she would have never let him catch her doing such a thing. It wasn’t like 2B to waste energy on unnecessary acts like speaking to nobody.</p><p>“Please…” he hears her whisper, scarcely audible above the rainfall. “I can’t do it anymore, not this time.” A long pause. She seems to be listening. “…the humans believed in you. I don’t know why they’d put their faith in something they can’t see or hear, but if you’re out there, I have nothing left…”</p><p>9S slowly lifts his head, peering over his shoulder at her. She sits on the end of her bed, hunched over, head hanging so her silver hair curtained her face, her hands clasped at her knees. He shuts his eyes and lies back down before she sees him. 2B never claimed to understand human religion, dismissive of the notion of letting some unseen entity dictate right and wrong, seeking guidance from something that never deigned to show itself in any provable manner. The material was what mattered to her. What she could see, what she could touch, what she could cleave in twain with her weapons. She knew what she fought for, and she didn’t need anything more than that. Or so he’d thought.</p><p>She’s silent for a while longer, until 9S hears the rustle of her straightening up. “So that’s how it’s going to be,” she says softly. The faint click of her heels on the floor, the jingle of Virtuous Contract’s tassel as she takes it from its spot, leaning against the bed. Footsteps approaching his bed. 9S stares at the discolored concrete wall.</p><hr/><p>The rain continues to fall gently, drumming a sleepy pattern against the tarps, muffling her cries.</p>
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